


The Cure for Boredom

by fearfully_beautifully_made



Series: Better Than I Know Myself [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom John, Bottoming from the Top, Dom John Watson, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Sub Sherlock Holmes, Top Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-10 07:16:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6945121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fearfully_beautifully_made/pseuds/fearfully_beautifully_made
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is bored and John finds a more than satisfactory way to entertain him.   </p>
<p>This is the second work in my "Better Than I Know Myself" series but there's no reason you can't read this one on it's own if you'd rather.</p>
<p>(My apologies that I am absolutely terrible at summaries and titles.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My gratitude, as ever, must be given to my lovely friend dreamsindigita1 for being so supportive and encouraging as I work on these stories. (Also, if you missed the note in the first fic in this series, these works would not be here without her initial request for what became A Study in Topping and her sweetness/encouragement as I write these.)
> 
> Secondly, I still own nothing just in case anyone was confused about that.
> 
> Enjoy, darlings!

_Sherlock_

Sherlock was bored.  This was never good news for anything or anyone within a 5 kilometer radius of his person because a bored Sherlock was an unpredictable Sherlock.  Currently he was pacing about the flat in a semi-manic state with nothing to do and nothing to occupy his mind.  There were no decent cases to be had anywhere and Molly had refused to give him the livers of people who had died due to Cirrhosis of said organ.  

He pulled his phone out of his dressing gown pocket and sent a text off to John who had left for work this morning in spite of Sherlock’s attempts to dissuade him.  Oh, and what attempts he had made, using everything he knew John loved about him to persuade him to call in sick.  He’d exposed his neck and artfully draped the sheets so most of his back was on display along with a tiny hint of his right buttock.  But John hadn’t been swayed, he’d grinned, pressed a kiss to Sherlock’s lips and promised to be home by dinner time.

**Bored.-SH**

**_I know.  Have you checked the website?_ **

**Of course I’ve checked the website.  There’s nothing interesting.-SH**

**_Maybe you should clean the flat?_ **

**_Or you could catch up on some reading._ **

**_Or you could make us dinner, I bet you’d be a brilliant cook.  You have a degree in Chemistry, how hard can a recipe be?_ **

**Dull.  Dull.  More DULL.-SH**

**Tell me where you left your gun.-SH**

**_Don’t touch my gun, Sherlock.  I mean it.  The walls can’t take it._ **

**My mind is rotting, John.-SH**

**_You need a hobby._ **

**You are my hobby.-SH**

**_Charming.  Just find something not too destructive to occupy your afternoon.  I think I’ll be leaving the clinic early today.  If you’re good, I’ll bring you a present. ;)_ **

**Did you just sent me a winky face?-SH**

**_Yes I did._ **

**I’m disgusted that I knew that.  What is that meant to imply?-SH**

**_It’s supposed to be flirty._ **

**Uggh.  There have to be more interesting things to fill my time with. -SH**

**_Alright, then.  Go and take a shower.  Make sure you’re clean.  Thoroughly.  And that our sheets are clean.  Make sure there are condoms in the bedroom.  No wanking._ **

**_Got to go, I’ve a patient coming in.  XO_ **

Sherlock tossed his phone down on the table.  He didn’t know what John had planned for him, but suddenly his mind was filled with possibilities.  He rushed off to the bathroom to start getting ready for tonight, his mind completely distracted from his boredom.


	2. Chapter 2

_ John _

John arrived at 221B a bit later than he had hoped, his last patient, Mrs. Thatcher, was a chatter.  He realized it was probably because she was lonely, but he couldn’t help feeling antsy as he imagined Sherlock getting ready at home without him.  

To be honest, not much had changed since they’d started dating about a month ago.  Sherlock was still a pain in the arse most of the time and brilliant all of the time and John mostly tagged along for the ride.  Sherlock had been worried about the sex controlling his body but after the first week his ridiculous libido had cooled down and when they were on a case they were  _ on a case _ .  Rather than divorcing his work, it seemed he’d simply married John to it as well.  (Which, if John was being honest, he pretty much had been in the first place.)  The only difference now was that John and Sherlock had something to occupy themselves with at home as well.

John trudged up the stairs to his old bedroom and tucked the things he’d stopped off to buy under his bed.  It wouldn’t do to have Sherlock see the bag too early, if he saw the bag he’d start deducing and if he started deducing he’d ruin the surprise.

The room was just as he’d left it; his bed made tidily in the center, the desk straightened, his clothes (at least the ones that hadn’t made the transition to their room) hanging neatly.  John saw his military fatigues hanging in the back and pushed away the half formed plans of ordering Sherlock about while he was wearing them.   Another plan for another day, he thought with a grin.  

He went back downstairs and plunked himself down in his chair, picking up a novel he left sitting on the end table for times like this when he was waiting for Sherlock to finish primping.  

It wasn’t more than a few minutes when John heard movement behind him and glanced up to see Sherlock walking into the room.  His dark curls were saturated and hanging heavily in his face, his skin warm and flushed from the heat of the shower.  Sherlock was only wearing a navy dressing gown that was rather shorter than most of his dressing gowns.  John unconsciously licked his lips and let his gaze rake appreciatively over the parts of Sherlock’s body he could see, “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” he said.

John moved to stand but Sherlock pressed his hand to his shoulder and straddled his thighs as he climbed into his lap.  John grinned up at him, Sherlock was a bit like an overgrown cat who had no sense of personal boundaries and would crawl all over their human as they pleased.  John adored him. “Well hello there.” 

“Hi.” Sherlock murmured before pressing his lips to John’s.

John hummed contentedly into the kiss, running his hands up and down Sherlock’s thighs as he settled in before he reached back and began smoothing his hands up and down Sherlock’s back, feeling the silky smooth fabric of his dressing gown.  He let Sherlock lead the kiss and set the pace, later he was going to be completely at his mercy so he could control this part.  

When Sherlock bent to kiss along John’s jaw John began stroking his hair, “You smell nice.” he murmured into Sherlock’s ear and felt goosebumps raise on Sherlock’s flesh as a shudder raced down his spine.   Sherlock sighed and sank into John further, and John could feel the tension flowing out of his body as he continued to stroke his hair and back.  Eventually John’s hands started to drift lower until he was rubbing Sherlock’s arse through his dressing gown.  Sherlock let out a soft sigh and wiggled his bum back into John’s hands.  

John gave his arse a quick swat and Sherlock practically choked on the breath he’d been attempting to take as a moan simultaneously made its way from his throat.  John chuckled deep in his throat, “You are a dream, Sherlock.” he said.  

John’s hands slid lower and flicked the fabric covering Sherlock’s arse out of the way so he could rub his hands over the supple flesh he found there.  Sherlock groaned and braced his arms against the back of the chair as he wiggled his bum and attempted to spread his thighs further in spite of the chair impeding such motion.

“So eager.” John said as he reached over into the drawer beside the chair and pulled out the bottle of lube they’d stashed there for evenings such as this.  He spread Sherlock’s buttocks with one hand and began to rub his hole with his lubed forefinger of the other.  “Mmmh.  I just love this sweet little hole.” John said, circling his fingers around Sherlock’s hole.  Sherlock groaned and pressed back against John’s finger.  “Always so eager for my fingers, aren’t you?” 

Sherlock nodded and groaned as John worked a finger into his entrance.  John leisurely began thrusting his finger in and out and working Sherlock’s hole open further bit by bit.   After a moment Sherlock started getting antsy and began undulating his hips, trying to fuck himself, trying to get John’s finger to brush against that bundle of nerves inside of him which John was very intentionally avoiding.  

“You’re working so hard to fuck yourself, love.” John murmured as the hand without a finger buried in Sherlock’s arse came up to stroke the top of Sherlock’s chest peeking out through the v of his dressing gown.  

John slid his hand down as Sherlock watched and he toyed with the belt for a moment.  “What do you think, love?  Should we get this robe off of you, let you sit naked on my lap?  Would you like that Sherlock?  Imagine what you would look like, bare and open, my fingers buried deep inside your tight little hole.”

Sherlock nodded at John and groaned as John removed his first finger before inserting two and scissoring and twisting them in Sherlock’s hole.

“Are you feeling ambitious today?” John asked.  One of his favorite discoveries about Sherlock was that he had an  _ exceptional _ refractory period which made propositions like this fairly commonplace.  “Would you like me to make you come out here with my fingers buried in your arse, stretching you wide while I suck your nipples and then you can come again in the bedroom when I do?”

Sherlock groaned, “Yes, John.”

John deftly untied the belt with his left hand and slipped the gown off of Sherlock’s shoulders without stopping the constant thrusting of his fingers.  Sherlock threw his head back, his nipples tightening to rosy little buds as the cool air caressed his skin.  He continued rocking his body up and down, fucking himself harder on John’s fingers.

“So beautiful.” John hummed.  He traced his fingers lightly along Sherlock’s collarbone, watching Sherlock shudder at the light touch.  Then he trailed down his pale chest and abdomen before tugging lightly at the trail of hair that led down to Sherlock’s cock.  John licked his lips as he looked at Sherlock’s cock jutting out from his body, bobbing as Sherlock continued to thrust himself up and down on John’s fingers.

He reached out and took Sherlock’s cock in his grasp, stroking it a few times before sliding his hand down to roll Sherlock’s balls in his palm, tugging at them lightly as he did.  Sherlock gasped and his cock dripped a bit of precome onto John’s shirt.  “Mmmm.  Your cock is leaking Sherlock, you’re making such a mess of my clothes already.” John tutted.  “All this precome and I haven’t even touched your prostate yet.  Imagine how much more of a mess you’d be making if you were riding my cock instead of my fingers.”

Sherlock moaned and his rhythm started to falter slightly.

John leaned forward in the chair and flicked his tongue against Sherlock’s nipple, which was at the perfect height with Sherlock raised on his knees the way he was.  John was thoroughly enraptured with Sherlock’s reactions as he keened and his cock twitched, prodding the empty air.  He froze in place under the assault of John’s fingers and tongue, no longer able to focus on anything other than the sensations John was creating. 

John closed his mouth around Sherlock’s nipple and sucked on it lightly, flicking his tongue along the flesh, making Sherlock cry out as he continued to thrust his fingers up into him.  Sherlock seemed to realize he’d ceased his movement and began to rock his body up and down once more.   

John pulled back and blew lightly on Sherlock’s wet nipple causing Sherlock’s entire body to shudder and clamp down around John’s fingers.  “Stop working so hard, Sherlock.” John said, his voice soft but full of that commanding tone Sherlock loved so very much.  “I’ll take care of you.” John added watching as Sherlock shuddered under his words.

John resumed sucking Sherlock’s nipple, thrusting his fingers in Sherlock’s arse, and toying with his balls simultaneously and Sherlock was very nearly overcome.  John continued this exquisite torture, never touching Sherlock’s prostate, never stroking his cock, and never putting quite enough pressure on Sherlock’s nipples to make him orgasm for what felt like a small eternity to both of them.  

Sherlock was all but writhing, his body completely unsure which sensation it should lean into and simply settling for shuddering between all of them.  He was moaning and babbling nearly constantly and the only words that continued to make it out of his mouth consistently were the words “John” and “Please.”  

John knew Sherlock was right on the edge of orgasm, he’d familiarized himself with his lover’s body well enough to know the signs; Sherlock’s thigh spasmed against him, his fingers clenched and unclenched while his toes remained completely curled in toward his foot, and his hips gave abortive jerks beyond Sherlock’s control every few moments.  He knew he could keep him on edge longer, but he couldn't resist Sherlock’s whimpering and soft, mewling pleas.  Taking a deep breath, John did several things simultaneously; the hand that had been cupping Sherlock’s balls slipped back to rub at his perineum as the fingers buried in Sherlock’s arse finally pressed firmly against his prostate and he bit down on Sherlock’s nipple.

Sherlock wailed John’s name and John thought belatedly that he probably should have closed the stairwell door.  John continued to rub his prostate with firm fingers as Sherlock’s cock emptied itself across John’s chest and stomach.  Sherlock shuddered and writhed in John’s lap and his hips jerked a few times before he flopped forward onto John’s chest, completely boneless.  John rubbed his back soothingly and pressed kisses to Sherlock’s neck as Sherlock came down from his endorphin high.  

After a few minutes, though, John groaned, “Alright, sorry love but you have to move.  You’re putting my legs to sleep and it feels like I am sitting on pins and needles.”

Sherlock groaned but begrudgingly unfolded himself from John’s lap, pulling John up out of the chair after him.

John wrapped his arms around Sherlock’s waist and pressed a kiss to his lips before looking down at his chest and stomach, then at Sherlock and making a decision. “Into the shower.  Let’s wash off really quickly then I’ll give you your present.” He wiggled his eyebrows at Sherlock and gave him a lascivious grin.

Sherlock crossed his arms over his chest, pouting like a toddler. “Why don’t you give me my present first and then we’ll shower?  Based on the  _ innuendo _ face in your text, we’re going to be a mess again in no time.”

John pressed a kiss to Sherlock’s lips.  “You may be right, but I still smell like the clinic and you’re covered in come which I know for a fact you hate the feeling of once it dries.”

Sherlock huffed, “Fine, but it better be the quickest shower you’ve ever taken.” he said as he turned on his heel and marched off to the bathroom.

“Always in such a hurry.” John grumbled behind him.  “We’ve all night you know.” he said as he shut the door behind the two of them and started to strip under Sherlock’s watchful gaze.  Sherlock seemed to love watching John undress, and John was determined that Sherlock could deduce something about John’s intentions just from the way he unbuttoned his shirt.

After a moment John had all his clothes off and he ushered Sherlock into the shower before climbing in behind him, rubbing as much of his body against Sherlock’s as he could as he reached over and turned on the water.  John loved showering with another person.  It wasn’t always about sex (sometimes it was and introducing Sherlock to shower sex had been glorious) but John genuinely enjoyed showering with someone else.  He liked the intimacy, the act of caring for the other person, and they'd found that Sherlock enjoyed it as well.  They’d found that he enjoyed many of the acts of affection that came along with dating, like the way John always touched his shoulder or back when he walked around him, or the way he stroked his hair when they were on the sofa together, or the way he held Sherlock to him as they slept.

John pulled Sherlock out of his mind as he began rubbing his own body wash along his chest and stomach.  He leaned in and pressed his lips to Sherlock’s and Sherlock wrapped his arms around John’s neck, and opened his mouth under John’s assault.  John nipped lightly at his lips before licking into Sherlock’s mouth.  

Sherlock grinned into the kiss and pressed one more kiss to John’s lips before he pulled back.  “Why don’t you be in charge of the scrubbing and I’ll just kiss your neck a little?” Sherlock murmured in a purr.  

He grinned at Sherlock, “Leave me to do the mundane tasks while you have fun, how true to real life.” he quipped, but dutifully picked up the flannel and poured a bit of body wash on it and began rubbing it into Sherlock’s back.

Sherlock hummed contentedly and moved to lick and kiss at John’s neck; John was a bit particular about where Sherlock left hickeys (Sherlock couldn’t have cared less, and frankly encouraged John to leave marks for everyone to see) so Sherlock was careful not to suck any bruises into the skin of his neck.  He lapped at a rivulet of water running down John’s neck and followed it’s path down John’s collarbones and between his pectorals.  Sherlock sucked a bruise on John’s chest and John groaned, the flannel long forgotten under Sherlock’s ministrations.

Sherlock straightened once more and turned them around so John’s back was facing the spray, “Why don’t you wash your hair?” Sherlock recommended silkily.  

“You could always do it for me.” John offered, holding the bottle of shampoo out to him.

“Mmmm, no.  I have something else you need me to take care of.”  Sherlock took the flannel from the peg on the wall and poured John’s body wash onto it and began to rub the flannel over John’s chest and stomach, straying close to his cock but not quite touching it before bringing it back up and rubbing it along John’s back.

Then Sherlock dropped to his knees and looked up at John under his lashes, something which drove John absolutely mad with lust.  Maintaining the most innocent expression he could muster Sherlock rubbed the flannel over John’s thighs and calves before sliding it back up and washing John’s groin.  Sherlock studiously avoided touching John’s balls or his cock but reached back and dragged the flannel along the cleft of his buttocks and along the creases in his groin.

John was panting, but had otherwise resisted Sherlock’s assault very well.  Finally, looking up at John once more, Sherlock cupped John’s balls with the flannel and rolled them around in the cloth lightly under the premise of washing him.  John’s cock, fully erect at this point, hung at Sherlock’s eye level and Sherlock was constantly licking his lips, clearly fighting the impulse to lean forward and suckle on the tip just a bit.  It twitched as Sherlock tugged John’s balls away from his body gently and he leaned forward and took John’s cock between his lips licking at the glans and pushing his tongue under John’s foreskin.

“Fuck, Sherlock.” John gasped as his fingers moved to brush Sherlock’s hair off his face before wrapping around a handful of Sherlock’s curls.  

Sherlock groaned around John’s cock as John stilled his movements by tugging his hair.  

“Do you like that, Sherlock?” John asked, his voice low, sounding like molasses.  Sherlock shuddered.  “Do you like it when I control your movements when you’re sucking my fat cock?”

Sherlock groaned around his mouthful and nodded, sucking on John’s cock and flicking his tongue along his frenulum.  John continued, “Do you like how heavy my cock is on your tongue?  Do you like the way I taste?”

John tugged at Sherlock’s curls and angled his head back slightly and began thrusting into Sherlock’s mouth, really just rocking in and out, never pushing too deep, never cutting off Sherlock’s air supply, never making him gag.  John was larger than average (not that Sherlock had any practical frame of reference) so he was always careful with his partners because it was only too easy to get too enthusiastic and end up hurting someone.  

They continued at a nice leisurely pace with Sherlock sucking and licking at John’s cock and kneading his balls with his right hand until John started to feel like it was getting to be too much.  He pulled his cock out of Sherlock’s mouth and Sherlock whined at the loss.

“Come on.  The water’s starting to cool down.  Why don’t you go and strip the covers and top sheet and get yourself comfortable?  I’ll be in with your present in just a moment.”


	3. Chapter 3

_ Sherlock _

Sherlock grabbed a towel off the hook and padded to the bedroom, drying off on the way.  Once he got there he tossed the towel in the corner and proceeded to pull the covers off of their bed.  He climbed onto the bed and arranged his body to be as appealing to John as possible, which wasn’t even remotely difficult; John all but worshipped Sherlock’s body.

John came in a moment later and his eyes raked across Sherlock’s exposed form.  “You’ve been so good, Sherlock.” John purred, walking over to the side of the bed.  

Sherlock watched him approach with half mast eyes and worked really hard not to look at the bag, not to deduce what John so clearly had wanted to be a surprise. 

John leaned over and pressed a kiss to the inside of Sherlock’s knee and kissed his way up from there to Sherlock’s groin.  Sherlock’s cock was already half hard again and he pressed light kisses along the length of Sherlock’s cock and sucked at the head for a moment.  

Sherlock shuddered and breathed out John’s name on an exhale.  John grinned up at him, “Ready for your present, love?”

“Yes.” Sherlock said quickly.  

“Hands above your head, then, stretched out toward the bedposts.” Sherlock did as he was told, feeling like he was opening himself up and making himself vulnerable somehow.  “Good boy.” John murmured as he reached into the bag and pulled out a lovely purple silk scarf.  

Sherlock’s heart rate accelerated at the mere thought of John tying him up, at the mere thought of being completely at John’s mercy, being completely exposed.  John trailed the fabric feather-light along Sherlock’s rib cage and up his arms and Sherlock's breath quickened in anticipation as John dragged the fabric across the sensitive skin of his wrist.  After a moment he bound Sherlock’s left wrist to the bed post and then produced a matching scarf which he used to bind the right.  John had left them relatively loose and Sherlock knew he’d be able to untie them if he needed to but Sherlock couldn’t imagine wanting to free himself.  

Sherlock felt a flush working it’s way down his neck and chest, a light sheen of sweat had broken out across his body, and his prick was now at full attention.  John grinned at him, “I thought you might enjoy this.” he said before pressing a kiss to Sherlock’s swollen, red lips.  He moved to the end of the bed, “Spread your legs, love.” John said once again with that tone of command that would have made Sherlock hard if he hadn't been already.

Sherlock groaned and obeyed and John efficiently tied his ankles to the bedposts at the bottom of the bed, leaving Sherlock completely open and exposed to his gaze.  Once John had finished tying him up he stood at the end of the bed admiring Sherlock’s body and taking in everything Sherlock exposed to him.  It was as though John’s gaze had a physical presence, his body felt overly warm and his nipples had hardened into tight little buds positively begging to be touched.  His body was positively thrumming with energy coursing through him.   Sherlock whimpered and arched against the restraints feeling completely powerless and knowing that because of this, John was going to make him feel extraordinary.  He felt a low moan tear itself from his throat as his cock twitched in anticipation against his belly.

John moved up to the top of the bed and turned Sherlock’s face toward him.  “Sherlock, I need you to listen to me, alright?”

“Yes, John.” Sherlock responded after a beat.  

“I probably should have had this conversation with you before I tied you up.” John mused.  “Alright, if this gets too intense, if you want to stop for any reason at all you only need to say the word.  I will stop no questions asked and we’ll do whatever you want.  Do you understand me?”

“Yes.” Sherlock moaned as his eyes flickered down John’s face to his lips and then along John’s body clad only in a towel.  John’s skin was still damp from the shower and suddenly Sherlock wanted nothing more than to run his tongue along his warm, damp flesh.  

“Sherlock.” John said sternly, Sherlock’s gaze snapped to John’s face.  “What do you tell me if you want me to stop?”

“I tell you to stop.” Sherlock said, dazedly.

“When can you tell me to stop?” John asked, holding Sherlock’s gaze with his own, anchoring Sherlock to their conversation.

“Any time.” Sherlock whispered.

“Good boy.” John praised.  “There’s one more thing if you want it.  If you don’t, that’s okay, too.” John assured him as he pulled out a blindfold from the bag and showed it to Sherlock.  “I know you close your eyes to focus on sensation sometimes, this will help you tune out visual stimulation.”

Sherlock nodded his head fervently against the bed, “Yes.” he said.  “I want it, John.”

John slipped it over Sherlock’s eyes and secured it tightly around his head, making sure there weren’t any gaps in the coverage.  In the darkness everything felt sharper and more real.  He could smell John’s body wash and shampoo, he could practically taste the dampness in the air.  

John ran his hand lightly down Sherlock’s flank and Sherlock gasped and shuddered. His ears perked up, listening for cues about where John was, he couldn't quite be sure where what he was going to do next and a thrill of anticipation raced down Sherlock's spine.

Sherlock felt the bed shift under John’s weight as John leaned forward and licked at Sherlock’s left nipple, flicking it lightly with his tongue for a moment.  Sherlock moaned his name and his cock twitched.  

“That’s it.” John’s rough voice encouraged, “So perfect.” he murmured, his hands coming up to brush along Sherlock's wrists there they were tied to the bed before he trailed his fingertips lightly down Sherlock’s arm, tracing his collarbone then his sternum before taking a detour and running his finger feather-light around Sherlock’s areola.  Goosebumps broke out across Sherlock’s chest and abdomen.  John flicked at Sherlock’s nipple lightly with his middle finger sending electric shocks down his body straight to his cock as Sherlock arched off the bed and gasped for breath.  A moment later John closed the nub between his index and middle finger and gave it a light tug.  Sherlock’s entire body arched off of the bed, his body stretched taut as a bow and he let out a gurgling groan.  “So lovely.” John murmured, leaning forward to press a kiss to Sherlock’s lips before pulling back.

Sherlock tried to follow John’s lips with his own but was held firmly by the scarves binding him to the bed, “Ahhhh.” Sherlock groaned and his toes curled tight for a moment as pleasure surged through his blood making his cock throb before it receded a bit and Sherlock’s toes relaxed.

He heard John moving to what sounded like the foot of the bed and a moment later Sherlock felt the silky, wet heat of John’s mouth as he sucked Sherlock’s big toe between his lips.  Sherlock whimpered, “John.” he’d never even contemplated something like this being even remotely arousing, and he squirmed against his bonds as the heat pooling in his belly was ratcheted up another notch.  John rolled his tongue against Sherlock’s toe and sucked before pulling off and systematically sucking on each of Sherlock’s toes in turn, running his tongue between each of them on his way.  By the time he’d finished, Sherlock was panting and his cock was leaking precome onto his belly.  

“You’re being so good, love.”  John said encouragingly as he placed kisses along the arches of Sherlock’s feet before coming around the bed and moving toward Sherlock’s head once more.  “You’re being so patient.” John praised before giving each Sherlock’s fingers the same treatment he’d given his toes, sucking each digit into his mouth and swirling his tongue around them.  Sherlock’s cock twitched with each drag.  John groaned around Sherlock’s index finger as his cock gave a particularly hard twitch and leaked a large glob of precome onto his belly.  Every pass over a finger, every stroke of his tongue, ever suck pushed Sherlock higher until he was desperate for John to touch his prick.

John dragged his teeth along the fleshy part of Sherlock’s finger before he pulled off and murmured, “Fuck you’re incredible.”

“John.” Sherlock groaned piteously, and even if he wasn’t using a word typically associated with begging, both of them knew that was exactly what he was doing.

“What do you need?” John asked.

Sherlock was completely desperate, “I need you to fuck me, with your fingers or your cock, something, anything.”

“Anything, hmmm?” John said and Sherlock could hear the grin in his voice and the bed shifted under John’s weight as he climbed in and settled between his spread thighs.  John’s breath ghosted over his cock and Sherlock’s entire body twitched beyond his control before John reached the base and pressed sucking kisses there; Sherlock moaned and his hips jerked off the bed aching for a firmer touch.  But John merely continued his path, licking at Sherlock’s balls and pressing kisses to the seam between them.  He continued sliding lower and lower until he reached Sherlock’s hole and pressed his tongue against that as well.

Sherlock keened at finally having something pressed against his entrance.  His arms fought the scarves as his fingers longed to twine in John’s hair and hold his head in place.  John moved his tongue in a swirl around Sherlock’s puckered flesh before pressing just the tip into him.   “Yes!” Sherlock cried out, “Please, John.  Please.” he all but sobbed.  John pulled his tongue out once more and continued to simply lick stripes over his flesh over and over pressing a bit harder as he passed over the apex of that bundle of nerves but not enough to quite breach it.  

Then John’s tongue was pressed inside once more and his lips sealed around that puckered entrance as he sucked.  Sherlock keened and his cock jerked.  John began to press his tongue into Sherlock’s body over and over, fucking him with his tongue, loosening that muscle and making Sherlock shudder and gasp for breath. 

Sherlock felt like his entire body was on fire, his hips continuously jerked out of his control trying to thrust himself further on John’s tongue.  His chest was heaving and he felt sweat rolling down his temples and neck.  “John.” he moaned, “More.  Please.  I need more.” 

John pulled away after pressing one last kiss to Sherlock’s hole and the bed was moving again as John climbed back off.  A moment later Sherlock heard the click of a lube bottle being opened, relief flooded his body and then there was fluid being rubbed against his entrance.  Sherlock gasped and arched as the cool liquid touched his overheated flesh and then his skin was tingling and Sherlock was writhing harder.  “What?” he managed to gasp out.

John understood his question even though it hadn’t been asked thoroughly, “It’s a different kind of lube than you’re used to, love.  Does it feel good?”

Sherlock moaned and nodded.

“Imagine the way this will feel when you’re being fucked.” John said low in his throat and Sherlock groaned.  A moment later Sherlock felt the cool, smooth head of something pressing against his entrance, swirling and twisting in the lube there, getting the blunt tip wet.  “I think you’ll enjoy this bit.” John said as he pressed the thin toy against Sherlock’s hole.  

Sherlock groaned and his hips jerked toward it.

John rubbed it teasingly around his entrance, “Is this what you want Sherlock?” he asked as he massaged the sensitive flesh with the toy.  “Do you want me to open you up and press this inside of you?” 

“Yes.” Sherlock groaned. 

John pressed the very tip into Sherlock and Sherlock wailed, his body jerking as though John had electrocuted him.  “Yes!” he cried out.  “The lube...  It feels... It’s tingly.”

“Yes it is.” John said as he pulled the toy back out before reinserting only the tip once more.  He worked it in and out of Sherlock’s body over and over, letting barely more than an inch past his rim each time.  Sherlock quirmed and moaned as John continued to tease him, his heart thundering in his throat.  

Sherlock was practically sobbing when John finally pressed it all the way into his anus, his balls and penis ached.  “John!” 

“I’m here, love.” John said, rubbing a soothing hand over Sherlock’s belly.  He leaned down and lapped at the puddle of precome that had formed on Sherlock’s abdomen before moving up the bed and pressing his lips to Sherlock’s.  He pulled back, “You are doing so well, love.  So so perfect.”  John pressed a kiss to Sherlock’s forehead, “I have another surprise for you.”

Sherlock moaned incoherently, “What is it?” 

“I’m going to prepare myself, and then I’m going to sit on your cock Sherlock.” John said as he climbed on the bed once more and straddled Sherlock’s chest.  Sherlock moaned and his hips jerked, trying to press his cock toward John.  

John spread his legs and leaned forward so his cock brushed against Sherlock’s belly tantalizingly as leaned in and whispered in Sherlock's ear, “Do you want me to tell you what I’m doing, Sherlock?”

Sherlock nodded fervently.

John bent down and nibbled at Sherlock’s nipple, Sherlock gasped and he thought for a moment he might come but John pulled away from his nipple before there was any real danger of that.  John knew his body so well.  “Sorry, love, I couldn’t quite hear you.  What was that?”

“Yes!” Sherlock gasped out.  “Yes.  I want to hear what you’re doing.”

“Good boy.” John praised.  “Well first I’m rubbing the muscles around my hole, just getting myself relaxed for you.” John murmured.  “Hmmm.” he hummed, “This lube really is quite good.”  John groaned, “I’m pushing my index finger into my hole Sherlock.  Fuck.  You should feel how tight I am.” he moaned out.  “Just wait until my tight little hole clenches around your cock, do you want that Sherlock?”

“Yes!” Sherlock shouted and his hips rocked off the bed desperately in search of friction.  The room was quiet for a moment save Sherlock’s labored breathing, John’s soft sighs as he continued to work himself open, and the slick sounds the lube made as John rocked his fingers into his body.

“I’m adding a second finger, now.” John told him, gasping as he worked the second finger past the tight ring of muscle.  “Fuck.” he groaned and Sherlock moaned in response at the feel of the tip of John’s cock dragging across Sherlock’s stomach leaving wet trails of precome behind as John began fucking his fingers in earnest.  “It feels so good, Sherlock.” John moaned.  “It feels so good to have something inside me.  I’m scissoring and twisting my fingers”  John added as his hips bucked against Sherlock, “Yesss.” he hissed.  “You should feel the way my hole sucks my fingers in, it keeps drawing them into my body but they’re not enough.” John groaned, letting his head fall forward onto Sherlock’s chest.  

Sherlock couldn’t help but imagine the picture John must make, straddling Sherlock’s stomach, leaning forward to expose his own hole and working his fingers in and out of himself.  Was he brushing them across his prostate? Sherlock wondered.  He must be covered in sweat by this point, his back glistening, his hair darker than usual.  His hole must be stretched so wide around his fingers, that pucker of flesh probably red and puffy at this point, begging to be fucked.  Sherlock groaned and his hips thrust up in search of friction in search of that incredible tight heat and the intimacy of being in John’s body.

“I’m adding a third finger now, love.  Nnngh.  Yes.” John panted, his breath coming faster too.  Sherlock could tell John was starting to get impatient.  “Are you ready, Sherlock?  Do you want your cock enclosed in my tight little hole?”   
“Yes!” Sherlock begged.  “Yes, John.  Please.”

There was a slick sound as John pulled his fingers out and reached behind him between Sherlock’s spread legs.  “Oh, there’s one last thing.” John said and he flicked the toy, which Sherlock now recognized as a vibrator, onto its lowest setting.

Sherlock gasped and arched off the bed as the toy began vibrating against his prostate.

“How’s that, love?” John asked.

“So, so good.” Sherlock said through gasps.  John reached over to the bedside drawer and Sherlock knew he was pulling out a condom.  Strictly speaking it wasn’t necessary but it did help with cleanup and it helped Sherlock not feel too overly sensitive, especially when John had pushed Sherlock’s body as far as he already had tonight.

“Alright, Sherlock.” John said as he opened the condom package, “I’m going to put a condom on you and then I’m going to sink down on your cock, nice and slowly.”

Sherlock moaned “Yes.” he said softly in acknowledgment.

“So good for me.” John praised, pressing a kiss to Sherlock’s lips in recognition of his response before he twisted and stroked his fist up Sherlock’s cock once.  “Mmmmh, yes.” John said, “You’re so hard for me, Sherlock.  You’re positively dripping.” he rolled the condom on then and Sherlock whimpered as John stroked a bit of lube on his cock.  

“Ready?” John asked as he steadied Sherlock’s cock and positioned it against his loosened entrance.

“Yes!” Sherlock gasped and his cock twitched at being pressed to John so intimately, eager to press forward into his lover.

John rubbed Sherlock’s prick across his entrance, the head of his cock catching on John’s rim.  John groaned, “Do you feel that, Sherlock?” John asked.  “Do you feel my hole fluttering against your cock?”  He pressed down so Sherlock had barely breached him and Sherlock keened.  “Do you like that, baby?” John asked.  “I bet your cock is so wet right now.” he said as he slowly began his descent onto Sherlock’s cock.  “I bet you wish you could touch me right now, don’t you Sherlock?  I know how much you like to feel my shoulders and how much you like to wrap your fingers in my hair.  I bet if you could use your hands right now, you’d have gripped my hips and have started pounding into my tight arse hole already.” 

“John!” Sherlock wailed as he continued sinking on his cock torturously slowly.

“You’d love to feel my thighs right now, Sherlock.  They’re practically quivering with the effort it’s taking to sink this slowly on your prick.” John moaned, perhaps a touch more dramatically than strictly necessary but it made Sherlock’s hips jerk in response none the less.

“Stay still.” John ordered and his body completely stopped moving.

Sherlock whined and his hips dropped back to the bed.  

“Good boy.” John cooed and he started moving again, sinking the rest of the way onto Sherlock’s cock, his buttocks resting against Sherlock’s pelvis.

“John!” Sherlock panted.  “Stop!” he said desperately. 

John froze, “Sherlock?” he asked calmly, “What do you need?  Do you want the ties off?” 

“No.” Sherlock moaned.  “Stopping moving.  Just for a minute.” Sherlock panted.  “If you move, I’m going to orgasm.” 

John exhaled, “Tell me the chemical formula for Formaldehyde.”

“What?” Sherlock asked, completely confused by this turn in conversation.

“The formula for Formaldehyde.  What is it?” John asked firmly.

“CH2O.” Sherlock said.

“Good.” John said.  “The square root of 12,544?”

“112.” Sherlock said after a moment.

“What’s the Spanish word for banana?”

“Platano.”

“Better?” John asked.

Sherlock nodded.  “Sorry.”

John leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Sherlock’s lips, gasping as the change in angle brushed his prostate.  “Fuck.” he murmured against Sherlock’s lips.  “You’re perfect, love.  So fucking perfect.”  John said as he sat back up and braced his hands against Sherlock’s chest and circled his hips on Sherlock’s prick, groaning as Sherlock’s cock ground against his prostate.  “Fuck.” he murmured again and began fucking himself smoothly on Sherlock’s cock. 

Sherlock wrapped his hands around the scarves to give him something to hold unto; clenching and unclenching as he fought to control his body.  John’s passage was so tight, so hot and every fiber of Sherlock’s being was fighting against his control to slam up into John’s body.

“Fuck, Sherlock.” John groaned, “I’m going to stroke my cock now.” he said letting out a moan as his arse clenched around Sherlock’s cock at the sensation.  “Ahhh.” John groaned and started to ride Sherlock’s cock faster, Sherlock’s hips were stuttering up to meet him in spite of how hard he fought against it.  “You’ve been so good, love.” John said softly.  “You can move now.”   

Sherlock took his words to heart and his hips began snapping up into John hard every time John sank down on his cock.  “That’s it.” John encouraged.  “Fuck me, Sherlock.”  

Sherlock moaned, “John, I need... please... I want to see you.”

John reached up and pulled the blindfold off of Sherlock’s eyes and Sherlock’s eyes immediately locked on his and he unconsciously strained harder against his bonds and fucked harder into John’s arse.   John looked stunning, far more stunning than Sherlock’s mind had been able to conjure on its own.  He was covered in sweat, his thighs and abdomen muscles working in tandem as he continued to thrust himself on Sherlock’s cock.  

He leaned back a bit and Sherlock knew his cock had brushed John’s prostate because John threw his head back in abandon and the hand on his own cock sped up.  John moaned and ground his hips down on Sherlock’s cock, rubbing mercilessly at his prostate.  “I’m going to come, Sherlock.” John panted.  “I’m going to paint your chest and stomach with my come.  Do you want that?”

“Yes!” Sherlock cried out, his entire body thrumming under John’s like a livewire.

“Fuck.” John moaned.  “Yes! Sherlock!” John cried as he came, his hole spasming around Sherlock’s cock.

John’s hole clenching around him, milking him was all Sherlock needed to push him over the edge as well and John continued rocking on Sherlock’s cock as he orgasmed, working him through it.  

When Sherlock dropped back to the bed John reached back and held the base of Sherlock’s cock as he slid off it, Sherlock whimpered with sensitivity.  “I know, love.” John soothed.  “Sorry.”

John removed the vibrator and grabbed the flannel he’d left earlier and quickly wiped the come off himself before turning and tenderly wiping off Sherlock’s chest and stomach then cleaning his between his buttocks, too.  

He tossed the flannel to the corner of the room and set about untying Sherlock from the bedposts.  Sherlock groaned as he moved his stiff arms and legs a bit.  John pressed soft kisses to whatever he could reach as he rubbed Sherlock’s calves and thighs before moving on to do the same to his arms and shoulders.

Sherlock laid boneless against the mattress through the entire procedure, watching John through half lidded eyes.  When John was finished he picked up the blankets and crawled into bed.  He pressed a kiss to Sherlock’s forehead once he was settled in, “Alright, love?”

Sherlock turned his head to look at John, his eyes still a bit unfocused and he nodded.

John snuggled down into the blankets and pressed little kisses to Sherlock’s neck and chest until Sherlock was squirming from ticklishness.

“That.” Sherlock said with a contented sigh as he reached out and wrapped his fingers into John’s hair giving it a gentle tug “Was sublime.”

John followed Sherlock’s tug and lifted his head to press a firm kiss to Sherlock’s lips, “You are sublime.” he murmured against Sherlock’s lips and Sherlock’s lips curled into a pleased grin at the compliment.  John pressed one more kiss to Sherlock’s lips before flopping over onto his back and pulling Sherlock over so he was curled up with his head on John’s chest.

Sherlock relaxed against him, “You know, if you hadn’t gone to the clinic we could have spent all day doing that.” Sherlock said through a yawn.

A giggle bubbled up through John’s throat, “You’re insatiable.” 

“Well it’s your fault.” Sherlock mumbled sleepily.

John pressed a kiss to the crown of Sherlock’s head.  “I love you.”

Sherlock hummed happily as he started to drift off to sleep.  The boredom was gone, temporarily abated.  He knew it would be back when they woke up from their nap but John would be here then, too, and John was the perfect solution to boredom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the end of this one, lovies. I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> <3 Blessings


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